Destiny
by motorcyclesfly
Summary: A slashy, kinda-PWP reworking of the scene beneath the Orchid. Ben Linus x John Locke.


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_"-- destiny, John, is a fickle bitch."_

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There were consequences to being chosen, sure enough, and John Locke was in the midst of experiencing them in all their delicious torment.

"Oh -- God --- Ben!" came the words torn from his throat as Locke felt the other man's teasing tongue delicately licking his erection from base to tip. Bracing himself against Ben's shoulders for balance, Locke flung his head back, muscles clenching as he moaned, voicing his pleasure.

They were in the ruined remains of the underground Orchid station, and there was nowhere to go but up. Dismantled pieces of rubbish had been tossed into the white lit chamber, where, incidentally, Dr Marvin Candle had warned in the orientation film, no inanimate objects must go. The resultant blast had torn a hole into the wall on the side of the station, exposing a ragged, ancient cavern just big enough for a man to walk through if he crouched. Overhead, light flickered and flashed. At some point, ignored by the two men with more interesting things on their mind, the Orchid station's orientation film had begun anew. On mute, the man who called himself Marvin Candle droned on endlessly, giving away secrets that, some other time, John Locke might trade his own legs to know.

"Mmm," John crooned, the moan slipping past his dampened lips as he thrust lightly forward. Fisting the fabric of Ben's shirt tightly, he closed his eyes, savouring the delicious heat of Ben's mouth as the other man gave him a sound working over. "Ben...."

Halliwax's arctic gear jacket was abandoned on the floor. So was John's shirt. His trousers had been unbelted, the belt flung somewhere in the distance by an impatient Ben, and then the trousers too had been cast aside. Groaning with the urgent satisfaction inspired by Ben's careful administration, John flushed, embarrassed as he remembered the raised eyebrow his nudity had provoked. "Commando," Ben had spoken delicately, sounding out the word, articulate as usual. "Nice." John, however, was anything but articulate. The words spilled from his lips in a helpless blur. "Oh -- Ben -- please ---" The erotic vibrations tingling over his erection told him Ben was chuckling at his complete lost of coherence, but for once, John was too preoccupied to care how Ben perceived him. "Here --"

As requested, Ben rose. He did not forget to attend to John, however, and stroked him rhythmically, almost languidly, as he stood, his gaze steady and amused. Weak-kneed, John did not protest as Ben slammed him forcefully back against the wall, then dove in for a kiss. Their lips met, slick and damp and hot with urgency. Ben slipped his tongue into John's mouth, claiming him forcefully, tasting the kiss, and John kissed back, his hips helplessly bucking as Ben's practiced hand continued to tease him. Carelessly, Ben ran the pad of his thumb over John's wet lips, then, using the saliva as lubrication, trailed his thumb gently over the slit of John's cock. He raised an eyebrow studiously as John moaned again.

"Soon, I'm going to need to move the island. The island must be kept safe, John," Ben spoke. He smiled faintly as Locke kissed him again, nipping his earlobe affectionately and making him suck in his breath sharply with the sweet, miniscule pain. "That's the most important thing."

Nodding eagerly, John pressed himself against Ben's hand, eager for the friction. "Uh huh."

Hot breath billowed sensuously against John's neck as Ben leaned in, pressing a butterfly kiss to his throat. "I'll have to leave the island, of course. That's the only way. But what I said before, what I told you, about never being able to return?" Ben's eyes glowed blue-green in the darkness, the colour of seawater. "I'm not so sure that's true anymore."

"No?" John panted in response. He tried to concentrate on the words, but his consciousness kept flittering away, consumed with the erotic sensation of Ben stroking him. Breathlessly, he nodded. "That's good."

Ben smiled, more sincerely than usual. It lingered for a moment, and he let Locke kiss him, and kissed back, though John's movements were clumsy with urgency. Affectionately, he trailed his free hand across John's cheek, cradling it for a minute. "Yes, it is. Because if it's forever..." The smile faded. "Then there are some things I'd sorely miss." He stared at John, and their eyes met for an instant before John's eyelids fluttered closed. He listened to the gentle moans and grunts that emerged from Locke's lips, and nodded gravely. "But I do have to go. The island must be relocated. Widmore mustn't find this place, you know that. Besides, I have some business to attend to," he considered, thinking grimly of his enemies.

Closer and closer to the verge, John thrust forcefully, pressing himself against Ben. He tried to concentrate, but the struggle was impossible; the feel of Ben's hands upon him was just too good. "Right," he said, because he had to say something and that was all he could think of that was appropriate. _'Harder' won't make sense, not with what he's talking about_, John mused, and kissed Ben again to disguise his smile. It was a rough kiss, panting and pressure and careless nips of teeth. _I want you._

"In my absence, my people require a leader. Someone who understands this island, who knows what it really is," Ben continued after the kiss ended. He sucked in his breath against his own desire, and briefly withdrew his hand, grinding his own erection against John's. Quarrelling within about leaving, he forced John back against the wall, kissing him back almost savagely. "I know what this island needs, John, and so do you. So, once I go, once I'm gone and things have changed, I'll expect you to be here, to lead, to learn and to do whatever is necessary. My people aren't far from here. They're already waiting for you." Eyes shining, he continued. "They'll tell you everything you want to know. They can answer all your questions."

"I want --"

He kissed John's neck possessively. "What do you want?"

"To go -- with you --" John gasped. He slid his hand under Ben's shirt, forcing it to come untucked, and savoured the heat of the other man's body. Then he slid his hands under the waistband of Ben's pants, his palms smooth against Ben's hips.

Ben did not fight as John wrenched his shirt away, pulling it so forcefully that several buttons popped off and rolled across the floor. The shirt, mere rags now, was cast aside without further ado. "John, you need to stay here."

"Why?"

"Because the island needs you here, and my people need you here. It isn't optional. You're staying," Ben said, and he managed to sound firm even though his voice caught for a moment, when John's fingers began to deftly work the button of his pants.

John blinked back, green eyes open and unsure. "But ---"

"The island chose you. It's your time now," Ben explained. He drew back for a moment, though not so far away that he couldn't feel the heat of John's body just inches away. "I told you, John. There are consequences to being chosen. This is what you have to put up with. When you're chosen, really chosen, it's no longer up to you." His expression was open, honest, sincere. He cocked his head slightly, a dismissive gesture. "Besides, you'll finally get what you've wanted ever since you crashed here: answers."

"What I want," John spoke decisively, "is you."

"We came here so I could move this island," Ben pointed out, his cheeks slightly heated. The blush made him look almost boyish, though it did not disguise the perpetual calculating, thoughtful expression he wore. "It needs to be protected. There isn't much time."

Taking Ben's hand firmly, John settled it once more upon his undaunted erection. He raised an eyebrow, almost smirking at the momentary startled look that crossed Ben's face, then took the opportunity to trail his fingers along Ben's hip, causing the other man's breath to flutter. "I care about the island as much as you do, Ben. But trust me," John said, smiling. "There's time enough."


End file.
